


Seaspray

by rosegoldroman



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drowning, M/M, and logince bc im weak, go check out her account shes Amazing™, inspired by an idea that ollie gave me!!!, mermaid au, more moxiety bc i cANT WRITE ANYTHING ELSE, she's aliferously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15026030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldroman/pseuds/rosegoldroman
Summary: Patton has always loved the ocean. With his quartermaster Remy and his first mate Dolos by his side, there's nothing that can stop him from sailing, from chasing that endless horizon. But when his ship is destroyed in a violent storm and he's saved by a mysterious mermaid with a royal past, he finds something he loves even more. Their relationship is as taboo as it comes; can they stay together when the whole world, when those they considered friends, work to tear them apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliferously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliferously/gifts).



> HEWWO
> 
> me?? starting a new au???? despite the fact that i know i dont have time for consistent updates???? its more likely than you think
> 
> my best friend in the ENTIRE WORLD, Ollie, gave me the idea for this fic a while back!!! i'm really excited for this, i've got a lot of twists planned that not even she knows about >;3 
> 
> this chapter has,,,, small moxiety. logince is coming next chapter!!!!!
> 
> i can't promise consistent updates for this, but i'm hoping to at least have 3 chapters out a month! i'm working on a few other projects at the same time so i'm gonna be a bit swamped, but i'm really excited for this story, and hopefully you'll enjoy it at much as i will!!
> 
> i hope you like it!!!
> 
> <3

Patton loved the sea.

He loved its personality, its energy; the way it caressed the shore on good days and raged with fury on the bad, the way it stretched on for miles, empty, open, free. He loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and the salty spray on his face, the sound of the waves lapping against the side of his ship.

He’d grown up in a small orphanage in a small town in the kingdom’s countryside, as far from the sea as possible; but he’d  _dreamed_  of it, of him and the horizon and nothing else, of the kinds of adventures only the open ocean could bring. He was supposed to be a farmer — most orphans were sent to work in the fields the moment they were old enough — but… he  _couldn’t._  He couldn’t spend every day out in the fields. He couldn’t live away from the sea.

So he ran. He ran and jumped at the first chance he got to sail, his first chance to see the sea. He worked every job he could get his hands on; a lowly swabbie, first, and then cabin boy, then cook, rising in the ranks higher and higher. And now…

Pathos was the jewel of the kingdom’s trading company — and Patton’s pride and joy. Years had passed since he’d first run away from that old orphanage, and now it was just him and his ship, him and the sea. With his quartermaster Remy and his first mate Dolos by his side, there was nothing that could stop him, nothing that could keep him from chasing that endless horizon.

The sea was his home; it loved him as he loved it. But it held as much fury as it did serenity. Patton knew its wrath as well as its comfort, its storms as well as its gentle waves, and he knew to fear the darkening of the skies above and the enlivening of the water below.

He knew to avoid the sea’s wrath — and he knew how hard it was to escape it.

Rain fell across the deck in sheets of freezing cold, and violent waves tossed the ship side to side; Patton shivered as he clung to the ship’s wheel to keep from falling, his knuckles stark-white as he desperately tried to steer out of the storm. Remy stood to his side, snapping rapid-fire commands to the crew below, his grim face illuminated by the lightning crackling above and his sharp voice carrying over the deafening rumble of thunder.

Patton shoved his dripping hair from his face and grit his teeth, yanking the wheel to the side. The ship rocked dizzyingly beneath him as the ocean battered it from below with all its might.

_Crack-boom!_

He whirled around, a desperate cry tearing from his lips as lightning slammed into the deck, sending his crewmates, his  _family,_ flying. The rain fell but did nothing to stop the flames the lightning left behind, growing bigger and more monstrous with every inch of Patton’s ship they devoured. As the embers flew and the heat licked at Patton, he turned and gripped the wheel once more, desperate to steer them out, to save them. But it was too late.

The water filled his lungs the moment he fell beneath, and though he choked and struggled he couldn’t find the surface in the chaos, couldn’t escape the darkness and the whirling, churning waves. The sea buffeted him at all sides, sending him tumbling, and darkness crept as the edge of his mind as the sea dragged him in.

He’d always known he belonged at sea, and now…

He was  _home._

* * *

Virgil loved the sea.

He loved its quiet, its emptiness; the way he could swim for miles and miles and find no one around, the way its waves seemed to comfort him, to beckon him home. He loved the feeling of the sunlight through its surface and the dazzling lightshow it would create, and the endless mysteries it held in its depths.

Virgil loved the sea — but the sea did not love him back.

For he was destined not for the quiet and the emptiness, not for the mysteries and the peaceful sunshine — but for the throne, for power over every reef and every creature in their part of the ocean. He was the only heir to the largest kingdom in all the oceans, the only son of the great King Marin.

To say he wasn’t meant for the job was a _severe_ understatement.

He was everything a king, a  _leader,_  shouldn’t be. He was quiet and insecure where he should be confident and brave, nervous where he should have been fierce; he held none of his father’s strength, his father’s courage. He wasn’t a king, he was just… Virgil.

So he ran. He ran, again and again. He wasn’t meant for the throne, he knew that; and the quiet, peaceful parts of the ocean beckoned him, far beyond the reaches of his father’s bustling kingdom. Except…

_“Virgil!”_

Except he never made it very far.

He froze and whirled around, biting back a frustrated groan as he glared with all the anger he could muster. Logan glared right back, his hair tousled and his goggles askew, his dull blue tail swishing beneath him and glinting in the sunlight. His face was red, and he panted, his eyes sparking with anger.

Virgil didn’t give him a chance to speak. He regarded him only for a moment before turning and swimming off, crossing his arms and gritting his teeth. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He wouldn’t.

“Oh, for the love of —  _come back here!”_ In an instant, Logan’s hand was on his shoulder, and he yanked him around. “Do you have  _any_  idea how long I have been chasing you?”

“Do you have any idea how much I  _don’t care?”_ Virgil tried to tear out of Logan’s grip, but he knew it was futile; hell hath no fury like a Logan scorned. He glared instead, injecting every ounce of regality into his expression that he could.

“You are going to get us  _both_  into serious trouble, your highness.” Virgil flinched at the title, deepening his glare to no avail. “I was assigned to watch over you, which means I take the fall when you continue to have these  _childish_ tantrums and run off!”

“They’re not  _childish,”_  Virgil said childishly, “and I don’t have a choice. I’m not just going to sit there and let them — let them turn me into something I’m not.” He twisted and shot off the moment Logan lost his grip, swimming as fast as he could. He heard Logan shout furiously behind him and snickered, waving over his shoulder.

“One of these days you’re going to have to accept it!” Logan was  _fast,_  though Virgil hated to admit it, and it wasn’t long before he was on Virgil’s tail. Virgil pushed himself to swim faster, and the ocean darkened around him, a storm brewing on the surface. “You are the _prince,_  and you must act like it!”

“And if I don’t want to?” Virgil stopped and whirled around, lifting his head just enough to glare down at Logan over the bridge of his nose. Logan skidded to a stop just before crashing into his and met Virgil’s glare with a resolute one of his own.

Lightning flashed overhead and broke their furious standoff. Logan crossed his arm, his expression softening just the slightest bit, and Virgil averted his gaze, a pink blush spreading beneath the black scales dotted around his eyes.

“You don’t have a choice, Virge,” he said, and his voice was that of Virgil’s childhood friend, not the stuffy nobleman he’d become. “You are the only heir.”

Virgil bit his lip as thunder rumbled; he longed to stop and watch the storm, to forget about this stupid argument altogether. “I don’t see why we can’t just… get a new heir. Find someone else. Someone better.” He turned to face Logan.  _“You’d_  be a good king. Not me.”

“Me?” Logan chuckled, one eyebrow raised. “That is a novel idea. You know just as well as I do that I am not meant to be a leader, Virgil.  _You_  are.”

“No I’m —” He stopped as a shadow fell across the two, his eyebrows furrowing as he regarded the ship sailing above them. He’d never seen a ship out in a storm this violent; didn’t those stupid humans know to avoid them?

He was off before Logan could stop him, breaching the surface to regard the human ship. As lightning flashed above, the silhouettes of the humans aboard were illuminated, revealing their panic, their  _terror._  A short one standing at the helm of the ship — the captain, maybe? — held tightly to the wheel, desperation written across his face.

“What are you doing?” Logan asked, popping up beside him, his wet hair flopping down into his face.

“Watching,” Virgil replied quietly, never tearing his gaze from the ship.

“Watching?” Logan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Running away  _and_  risking being near humans. Great. Just  _wonderful.”_

Virgil opened his mouth to retort, bristling at the sarcasm lacing Logan’s tone — but a bolt of blinding lightning smashed into the ship’s deck before he could, and the screams of the sailors filled the air. He jerked to move towards the ship and Logan’s hands clamped around his arm, holding him back.

“Virgil, no!” Logan yelled, but Virgil could barely hear him over the howling of the wind and the rumbling of the thunder. He pulled them back under and turned Virgil to face him, his eyes wide and his tone desperate. “You  _can’t!”_

He was right, of course — being near humans, even to save them… it was one of their societies greatest taboos. Virgil stopped struggling, gritting his teeth as he watched the wreckage sink beneath the waves, the sailors struggling to stay afloat. He watched as most of the crew made their way back to the surface, clinging to the broken pieces of the ship — and he watched as one didn’t.

“Logan,” he began, and Logan’s eyes narrowed, his grip on Virgil tightening.

“Don’t you  _dare —”_

“I’m sorry.” He wrenched out of Logan’s grip and shot off, wrapping his arms tightly around the drowning human. He regarded the human for a moment — his half-lidded brown eyes, the halo of strawberry-blond curls around his head, the freckles across his cheeks — and then lifted, heaving the human above the surface.

“Virgil!” Logan yelled as he surfaced behind him. “Do you have any idea how many laws you are breaking right now?”

“Shut up and help me!” He turned and turned, desperate to find some sort of land among the churning, storm-tossed sea. There was an island around here somewhere, he  _knew_  it, he just had to get his bearings first.

Logan swam up beside him, muttering furiously to himself as he looped his arm around the sailor. “There is an island northwest of here,” he said quickly. “We can drop it off there and then leave. No one will ever know!”

Virgil tightened his grip on the human, wrapping his fingers tightly around the fabric of his shirt, and let Logan take the lead. The wreckage of the human ship surrounded them, a minefield of burnt and broken wood, and the storm above them raged on, thundering with all the rage the ocean could muster.

The island was small and wild, an overgrown mage of beaches and forests. In the glow of the lightning Virgil could just make out the driftwood washed up on the shore, and the human footprints leading from it; the other sailors, at least some of them, had made it out alive.

Virgil set the small human down on the edge of the shore and sank back into the water, watching, waiting. He ignored Logan’s worried lecture and narrowed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when the human’s chest moved up and down. He was breathing. He was alive.

“Are you satisfied now?” Logan asked, arms crossed. “It is alive. May we go home now?”

Virgil didn’t respond. He watched the unmoving human, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze unreadable. Slowly, carefully, he made his way back towards the shore, and Logan growled furiously, following.

He pulled himself up beside the human, regarding him with curiosity. His face was pale, his breathing shallow, his hair a sopping wet, curly mess. Virgil knew, of course, that humans were vastly different from them — they had neither scales nor tails, and their faces were rounder, their skin softer — but this was the first time he’d ever seen one up close. He leaned in closer, regarding the constellations written in freckles across the human’s cheeks, the soft curve of his lips, studying every inch of his strange, scale-less face.

“We need to leave, your highness,” Logan said, his voice a furious whisper. “If it wakes up, we will be in serious trouble.”

“What if it doesn’t wake up?” Virgil asked, tilting his head as he watched the human. He heard Logan struggling behind him, biting back a frustrated yell.

“Does it matter? You have done all you can, Virgil. It is no fault of yours if it doesn’t wake. We need to go.”

“You… you’re right. I  _hate_  it when you’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the wet bangs from his eyes, and Logan chuckled.

“You must just be filled with hatred, then,” he said proudly. “I’m glad you’re finally listening. Let’s —”

“Nngh…” They froze at the small, feeble groan, and Logan shared one furious look with Virgil before ducking under the water, leaving him alone. He jerked away from the human as he began to stir, his face scrunching up in the sunlight peeking through the weakening storm clouds.

He pushed himself back into the water and went to duck beneath, but it was too late. His eyes met the human’s and he froze, caught in the awed golden-browns.

“Woah…” The human tried to sit up and began heaving with watery coughs, his eyes squeezing shut as his face crumpled in pain. Virgil went to escape beneath the water, offering the human one sympathetic glance before he left, but the human jerked forward, holding out one hand.

“No, don’t —” Another coughing fit. “— don’t go!” He shoved his mop of sopping curls from his face and started forward; Virgil leaned back, every instinct in him screaming at him to run. But there was genuine, kind curiosity in the sailor’s crackly voice, and something in his eyes kept Virgil from swimming away.

So he stayed. He narrowed his eyes and watched as the human sat back, regarding him curiously. “What… what happened? Did you bring me here?”

Virgil opened his mouth and then closed it; being around a human was bad, but speaking to one was so much worse. He nodded instead, gesturing to the island and then to the pieces of burnt wood washed up around them. Pain flashed through the human’s eyes.

“Oh, that… oh,” he said, his voice a pained whisper. “My… my ship. It’s  _gone.”_  He looked on the verge of tears. “My crew, my — Remy, Dolos, they — oh  _god_  — are they okay?” he asked quickly, frantically, and Virgil was horrified to see tears filling his eyes and spilling over.

He pointed to the footsteps leading into the forest behind them and the human heaved a shaky sigh of relief, sniffling as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Okay. They’re… okay. Thank god.” He turned back to Virgil, his eyes caught in the glimmering purple-and-black scales along his tail.

“Are — are you… real?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle as he inched closer. Virgil shrank backwards, watching the human warily, nodding once, sharply. The human’s eyes widened and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, wonder written across his soft, round face.

“You saved my life,” he breathed. “I…  _thank you._  How can I repay you?”

“You don’t have to —” He froze, slapping a hand over his mouth. If Logan were there, he’d kill Virgil on the spot; he was talking to a human.

“You can talk!” The human’s face lit up and Virgil jerked backwards, his eyes wide. The human stopped, holding out his hands placatingly, his eyebrows furrowing. “No no no, please don’t go! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Slowly, Virgil lowered the hand covering his mouth, his eyes narrowed as he watched the human. “I shouldn’t — I  _can’t_  be here. I have to leave.”

The human’s face crumpled. “At least tell me your name?” he asked, leaning forward and gazing into Virgil’s eyes. When Virgil hesitated, he continued. “My name is Patton! It’s nice to meet you!”

“I…” This was bad. This was wrong. He’d saved the human’s life, he’d spoken to it, he’d already broken too many rules and laws to count. Logan was going to kill him when he got back. He glanced into the human —  _Patton’s_ eyes and bit his lip. “...Virgil,” he said finally.

“Thank you, Virgil,” Patton said earnestly, his small smile growing into a grin and making Virgil’s heart flutter. Virgil averted his gaze, opening his mouth to speak, but then —

“Patton!”

Patton jumped at the yell, his grin growing wider. He glanced at Virgil before jumping to his feet, his eyes shining with relieved tears. “Remy!” he called, and Virgil’s heart sank as more humans approached, his lungs filling with ice. “I’m here! I’m here, Rem!”

A tall man with dark brown hair pushed his way through the bushes, his face breaking into a wide, relieved grin. The two ran to embrace.

When Patton looked back to the edge of the shore, Virgil was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me in chapter one: "i can't promise consistent updates for this, but i'm hoping to at least have 3 chapters out a month!"  
> me, six months and zero (0) chapters later: 
> 
> WELL it's been a while !!!! the fact i just left this fic hanging has haunted me for the last six months!!!!! i have nothing to say for myself !!!!!!
> 
> heres some LOGINCE as an apology and HOPEFULLY ill be able to have another chapter out eventually ???? i wanna finish this so badly but my creativity doesnt like me uwu
> 
> im sorry it took so long to updaaaaaate i hope u enjoy this !!!! tho !!!! some worldbuilding and character introductions n stufffffff
> 
> //dabs by way of apology
> 
> ALSO tw blood for this chapter bc Drama!!! Injuries !!!!!! yea shdfksh

Logan prided himself on his mind.

He was born into a dull, high-class family renowned for their vivid, high-class tails. He was the one exception; where his parents and siblings had brightly colored or interestingly patterned tails, his was “below-average,” a simple shade of lackluster blue all across. Others rose to power based solely on the iridescent patterns they displayed, but he was forced to resort to other, more  _ intelligent _ means.

Which was no problem, of course. His mind was sharper than the sharpest of shark teeth; he could think through any situation, find the solution for any problem. Nothing was too much for him. Nothing could stump him.

Until now.

The prince, the only heir — and Logan’s responsibility — had saved a  _ human _ sailor from drowning. He’d gotten close to it, he’d even  _ talked _ to it, and in doing so he had broken one of their kingdom’s greatest taboos. Logan  _ prided _ himself on always knowing what to do, but this time…

This time, he  _ didn’t _ know, and that scared him more than anything.

At first, he’d swam close to the island, just out of prince Virgil’s line of sight, just close enough to see him talking to  _ it. _ But as more humans approached, his confidence fled and he followed suit, escaping to a quieter part of the ocean to think.

And that brought him to now, where he paced and paced, where he didn’t know what to do but he  _ needed _ to know what to do because it was his  _ job  _ to know what to do but he  _ didn’t know what to do. _

To say he was panicking would be a  _ severe _ understatement.

It was against the  _ law _ to interact with humans, of course, even for the crown prince and  _ especially _ for Logan. If anyone ever found out that he’d helped save that sailor’s life, he’d lose  _ everything. _

It would be nice, easy even, to simply assume that this was a one-time thing. He wished more than anything that he and the prince would never speak of it again, that it would fade in time to an awful but distant memory. But… he  _ knew _ the prince. This wasn’t over; it wouldn’t end until Virgil decided to end it.

His mind raced, his long fingers worrying the straps of his goggles as he swam in thoughtful circles. He knew the look in Virgil’s eyes as he talked with the sailor. His curiosity would only lead him back to the island, and then what? What if this never ended? What if their  _ relationship _ grew?

Of course, he wasn’t one to judge taboo relationships, considering…

“Well, well, well!” a sudden voice said, and he shot backward and yelped as he crashed into a massive chest. A face at least twice the size of his own appeared upside-down before him, grinning with rows and rows of deadly-sharp teeth.

Orcas. Logan’s blood ran cold.

The orca in front of him righted himself, his cruel scarlet eyes glimmering. His skin was as inky black as his tail, speckled with bright white spots and many, many scars. Logan struggled in the other’s grip, but it was no use; he was practically dwarfed by the powerful orca’s arms.

“W-What do you want?” he managed through the suffocating panic, trying and failing to grasp an air of authority. “This isn’t orca sea, you have n-no power over me here.”

“Oh, great, we’ve got a dumb one,” the orca behind him scoffed, squeezing tighter. Pain exploded across Logan’s torso and he winced, inhaling sharply. “Look around yourself,  _ mer. _ Does this look like mer sea to you?”

The orca jerked him around, and Logan’s breath left him in a horrified whoosh. In the dim, hazy nature of almost-dusk, he hadn’t even noticed the orca caves leering out of the darkness. “Oh,” he whispered.

“Now, what is a tiny little mer like you doing in our territory?” the orca not holding him asked, leaning far too close to Logan’s face for comfort. Logan couldn’t help but notice the way his teeth shone,  _ sharp sharp sharp. _

His voice wouldn’t come, which was stupid, because he had to talk his way out of this, he  _ had _ to, or he’d  _ die _ — and the orcas laughed at his silence. “Got lost, did we?” the orca holding him mocked in an awful, simpering voice. “Poor little mer.”

“Y’know, it’s gettin’ pretty late, isn’t it, Nelo?” the other orca said, in a voice that made Logan’s gills constrict with fear. 

“You’re right, Missa, you’re absolutely right.” Nelo, the one holding him, tightened his grip even more, and Logan choked. He couldn’t breathe. “I dunno if this poor little mer could even make it back home!”

Missa feigned sympathy, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, trailing a long, clawed finger down Logan’s jaw. Logan craned his head away as best he could, nausea bubbling to life in his gut. “So small and helpless, and… delicious. Maybe he’d be better off  _ coming with us, _ don’t you think, Nelo?”

Logan could see his own death reflected in the blood-red of Missa’s eyes, in the  _ hunger _ in his smile, and he struggled against Nelo’s grip to no avail. He was going to die; no one survived encounters with wild orcas,  _ especially _ if those orcas were hungry. 

Missa’s gentle touch grew violent within an instant, his claw digging into Logan’s skin. Logan choked on a scream and squeezed his eyes shut as blood clouded around his face. 

_ At least, _ he thought, as Missa’s finger trailed maddeningly slowly towards his throat,  _ the prince isn’t my problem anymore. _

And he closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

Which is, of course, when fate decided to throw him another curveball.

“Hey!” 

Logan’s eyes snapped open just in time to see a blur of black and white race past, slamming Missa away. Nelo stiffened with shock and Logan made his move — elbowing out of the orca’s grip with a sudden surge of strength. Nelo jerked, snarling as he dove towards Logan, but the blur tackled him to the side, Missa hot on his tail.

“What are you  _ doing, _ runt?” Missa growled, fury etched across his brutish face. The blur spun to a stop, a shark-toothed grin stretched across his handsome face. Recognition flashed through Logan’s mind and he froze, suddenly unable to swim away.

“What does it look like, my dearest brute?” the newcomer said, confidence dripping from his voice. “This one’s  _ mine.” _

With a snarl, Nelo attacked, Missa right by his side. The new orca was much,  _ much _ smaller, but he used that to his advantage — twisting and turning and slipping out of their grasp more times than Logan could count, always one step ahead, nimble even with the fresh scars all across his tail. The orca’s small claws barely did any damage, but it was obvious Nelo and Missa were getting frustrated.

“Fine!” Missa snapped, flexing his claws, like he wished nothing more than to gut the orca alive. “Stupid mer’s too small anyway, perfect for a tiny  _ runt _ like you.”

He spun and swam off. Nelo only lingered a moment, dragging his claw across his throat in an obvious gesture.  _ This isn’t over. _

“Lovely catching up with you!” the orca called after them, waving cheerfully. Logan only realized his mistake in lingering a moment too late, as when the orca turned around, there was no chance of escape. Even against one this small, trying to defend himself would be suicide; he’d gone from one problem right into another.

But the orca — the maddeningly familiar orca — didn’t hold any hostility in his gaze. No hunger, either. Just… curiosity. And something deeper, hidden in the muted red of his eyes. Logan couldn’t help but look at the scars wrapped around his tail, marring the smooth black-and-white.

And he couldn’t help but think about how he’d gotten them.

“Hello, again,” the orca said, his tone unreadable beneath the layer of boisterous confidence. When Logan stayed silent — caught in memories of the way that voice had sounded last time, on the brink of death,  _ trapped _ — the orca grumbled. “You’re welcome.”

“Ah — uh —” Logan said eloquently. He cleared his throat, fixing his goggles. “T-Thank you. But… why?”

The orca chuckled. “Why save you?" he asked, and Logan nodded. "Because... now we’re even.” 

Logan nodded sharply, recalling a fisherman’s net and a lot of blood with a shudder. “Yes, well…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing as the orca shifted, revealing a wound on his side. Three long clawmarks dug into his tan skin, and deep scarlet blood clouded out around them into the open water. “You’re hurt.”

“Ah, tis but a flesh wound,” the orca said, tilting his head in a way that he probably hoped made him look heroic. Logan raised an eyebrow. “No need to worry, tiny, there’s nothing better for a fresh wound than open water.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said before he could stop himself. The orca’s eyes widened, flashing with amusement, but he made no move to stop Logan (or kill him), so he continued. “Leaving such wounds exposed in open water leaves them susceptible to infections. You have to treat it properly.”

The orca laughed. “Aw, it almost sounds like you’re worried about me!” he said, and Logan flushed, eyes narrowing. The orca winked. “Fear not, tiny, I shall be okay! I’ve been hurt far worse than this, and I never treated those wounds, and yet here I swim, as handsomely healthy as ever!”

“Falsehood,” Logan said again, more heated this time. The orca gasped.

“To the healthy part or the handsome part?” 

“Both,” Logan said, and then froze a moment later, eyes widening. Did he just insult an  _ orca? _ Did he have a death wish? But the orca only spluttered indignantly, seeming more playfully offended than anything, and since he wasn’t actively trying to gut Logan or eat him, Logan was feeling pretty confident.

“A wound like that needs to be properly treated,” he said again, daring to swim just a bit closer. “Do you even know how?”

“Well, no…” the orca admitted. “But! I don’t  _ need _ to know how! I’m scrappy! And I don’t need some  _ nerd _ telling me what to do.”

“Obviously you do.” Logan readjusted his goggles, feeling impossibly brave. The orca blinked, obviously unused to being told off by a mermaid. “If you won’t treat your injuries properly, I  _ will.” _

The orca’s mouth twitched. “You know, if you’re going to try to  _ intimidate _ someone, you should try not being so… small.”

_ “Falsehood!” _ Logan snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I am perfectly average size for my species, and — and that’s beside the point! You need medical assistance and I am trained to give it. Stop being so stubborn.”

“Talk about throwing stones in coral groves,” the orca said, but it was obvious his resolve was failing. “Why do you care so much, anyway? I’m an orca, you’re not supposed to.”

Logan hesitated, his brow furrowing. Why  _ did _ he care so much? He’d already saved this orca once; why was he doing it again? But something about the thought of just leaving him there, injured, after he saved Logan’s life… it didn’t sit well with him.

Logan cleared his throat. “Your species does not matter. You are injured, and I am a trained medical professional. I have bandages and the proper medicine. It’s only logical to help.”

The orca, for once, seemed stricken speechless. He regarded Logan as if seeing him for the first time, running his hand along the fishing-net scars on his torso. “I have no choice in the matter, do I?” he asked finally. Logan shook his head. “Ah. Well, if you’re going to force me to  _ take care of myself,”  _ he said, wiggling his fingers and speaking in a high-pitched, mocking tone, “then we might as well do it at my place, yeah? Where it’s… safer.”

Logan hesitated again, trepidation eating away at the bravery he’d felt before. Talking to an orca was one thing, and that was dangerous enough — but going to an orca’s  _ house? _ That wasn’t just dangerous, it was the most taboo thing Logan could think of. What if it was a trap? This ‘charming’ persona could be a lie meant to lure him in, so he’d be alone and off-guard when the orca finally attacked. 

Well. He’d already saved a human, allowed the  _ prince _ to talk to one, swam into orca territory and interacted with no less than  _ three _ orcas. If anyone ever found out, he’d be dead anyway. Why not go for one taboo more?

Besides, it was getting horribly dark out. He had no idea where he was, and there was no chance of navigating in darkness. He could run into  _ far _ more dangerous orcas, or even, if his unlucky streak were to hold out, a  _ shark. _ Staying with the friendliest orca possible was the most logical option.

~~_ And, of course, the orca was handsome, there was no doubt about that — but that didn’t contribute to his choice at all, no, of course not. _ ~~

“Alright,” he said, letting out a breath. “I’ve made the decision to trust you.”

“A horrible decision, really,” the orca said with a toothy grin. When Logan froze, eyes widening, he backpedaled quickly. “No, no, that was a joke! No harm shall befall you in my care.”

“You are insufferable,” Logan said without thinking. The orca barked with laughter, his face lighting up.

“How dare you?” he asked, but his voice shook with laughter and the words held no malice. “I am a  _ delight.” _

“Falsehood,” Logan muttered. The orca shook his head as he turned and swam away, gesturing for Logan to follow.

“My name is Roman, by the way,” he said, shaking his dark hair out of his face, “but you can call me the prince of your dreams.”

“As I said: insufferable.” Logan raised an eyebrow, expression deadpan and annoyed. He held up his hand, fingers spread, and nodded. “I am Logan.”

Roman paused, regarding his hand, and Logan hesitated. Touching was a common display of cordiality in the mer-kingdom, but what if orcas had no idea what it meant? It hit him, then, just how  _ little _ the mers knew about their neighbors. 

But then Roman set his hand against Logan’s, touching finger-to-finger, and Logan felt an electric thrill race up and down his arm. When Roman smiled, genuinely kind, Logan’s gills forgot how to work. 

“Lovely to meet you, Logan,” Roman said, and Logan’s face grew warm.

_ Maybe, _ Logan thought, as he swam through the darkness with Roman at his side,  _ taboo relationships weren’t so terrible after all. _


End file.
